Lady I Love You
by lili0le3
Summary: balthier/fran forever in love, forever friends/partners NOTE: chap. 2 is the ending of this story which was supposed to have a middle hahaha..but i unfortunately forgot what happened in between, as was depicted in the game..reviews very welcome!
1. Chapter 1

The mist overpowered her, racking her body with tremors and sending shafts of pain up and down her body. Unable to fight it any longer, Fran collapsed onto the hard cobblestones, swimming in and out of consciousness as one word flashed through her fading thoughts over and over: Balthier..Balthier..Balthier. Feeling the touch of a hand gently lifting her up, she started but knew that it was not her sky-pirate's hold. She looked up dazedly into the worried countenance of Penelo and said urgently in broken tones: The Mist burns. Fit to bursting, it beats. The cocoon!" She stared in growing dread at the thick vapors swirling around and felt her life force ebb away in despair. Suddenly, cool as a stray winter wind caught in the storm of summer, softer than a butterfly's wing, a strong hand eased her up, moving up her back to a stop between her shoulder-blades and she gazed in wonder into the adoring face she knew and loved so well. His eyes were wet with worry as they looked down into hers, and she whispered caution lest he forget the impending danger: "The Sun-Cryst bursts. You must run as fast as you can." At her words, he seemed to suddenly become overwhelmed with emotion, and he answered gently in the same whisper: "Easy, Fran." Beset by pain and a softness alien to her Viera senses, she lifted a hand to his cheek, regardless of the others around them, and spoke with a trace of a smile: "Hadn't you best be off? That's what a sky pirate does; you fly, don't you?" He took her hand and held it, closing his eyes and breathing so that she felt the cool puffs on her skin. His lashes lifted and he looked at her, his lips twitching with the quiet mirth of old as he answered, "I suppose you'd better hang on then." As his arms closed around her, she sighed and sank into a peaceful faint.

He gently placed her onto the small bed, his hands sliding from her back. There was no time now to do much more, but he still made sure to cover up her graceful limbs with a thick coeurl blanket and slip off her hard metal armor with a suspicious ease no one would have guessed. Theirs had always been an unspoken love--yes, yes, love--from their first meeting until now. It was as though there had been no beginning, no starting place, no anniversary to mark when that powerful bond of trust and something even deeper had first established its overwhelming hold. No words, no actions. They flew the boundless sky together as one breath, one body. He had assumed it was meant to be, and she was not the kind to demand honeyed words or bestow them, though he would adore her all the same if she chose to do so. But today...Balthier's heart threw itself against the hard muscles of his chest. What had happened today? His emotions dashed about wildly in a disordered motley, and his handsome face betrayed the more sensitive side of the charming, ever-cool pirate, ex-judge and lately-orphaned young Hume. Of all these characters, it was still the pirate who returned to the wheel of his ship. But where was the lover?

The ship was not quite ready to leave without its other pilot, and he was much too distracted even to fly the machine that was such a large part of his life--and hers. Perhaps it was best they rest for one more day though; Vaan seemed especially shaken by Reddas' death and the others were also mourning with him in their own ways. He felt the loss as well, and more than ever wished to be back alone with Fran, beautiful Fran, in the clouds where they belonged, brushing the gates of heaven. Silently taking his leave of his companions, he walked , back to where his heart lay, sleeping in the soft tan hands of his only goddess, his true love and life.

Fran awoke to pain. Through the high glass dome above her, she could see the silver stars of the balmy night, like tears commiserating with her. The mist still left its searing traces on her, and she had never endured such intensity for so long before. The room was quiet and dark, except for the bed where she now lay, illuminated by the soft light of the stars that painted her skin their silver. She did not know how long she gazed at that gorgeous night sky until another entity more sweet touched her.

"Balthier..." she breathed gently, consumed with happiness and relief. She could not see his face in the dark, but when his warm hand closed over hers, she cried for the first time in her long Viera life, the two lonely tears silent as the air between them, sliding down her smooth cheeks onto the curve of her smile. The bed was just big enough for him to slide in and hold her close against his chest while she slept like a child, comforted by soft kisses and the cool skin of his hand bringing peace to her tired body, while his heart beat against her hand like a tender lullaby.

On his side, he had just entered heaven. Never had he seen Fran this way, though they were intimate lovers. He blessed the mist that sent her to him, needy arms wrapping around him and asking to be loved. Funny to think it was usually him who chased her for kisses (and usually got them). Fran was so naturally cool and calm most of the time, while he tried to preserve a mask of thus. He had always loved that dignity and awe that surrounded her and magnified her exotic beauty, but it frustrated him too--the silky white curls, sensuous lips and flashing eyes just beyond his pathetically desperate reach. His own finely-cut lips slid into a smile as he continued to stroke the pretty head pressed against his breast. This would be something to tease her about in the morning, the cold mornings where once again they faced the world on which they had turned their backs before. For now though, he didn't care about that world. He kissed her again, held her closer, and fell into a dreamless sleep, for his happiness could not be improved even by the fancies of dreamland. In the silence, only their quiet breathing could be heard, softly dancing together in perfect harmony.

The next day was as normal as any other for them, the unacknowledged couple. "Fran?"

"Yes."

She took the seat beside him, and they started the engines, metal parts purring into place, humming in mechanical bliss. Her fingers barely touched the buttons as they guided the ship's route, and he did not look anywhere except out the glass window, expertly driving their ship on. Behind them, she could faintly hear Vaan's subdued sobs, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Penelo's hand slip into his. Their sweet childish innocence brought the flicker of a smile onto her face, and she thought for a moment about Mjrn, the gentle sister she had left behind with the others, when she stepped out of her first home into the next, the current one. Next to her, Balthier was working busily as well but he glanced at her with eyes full of meaning for a moment. Did he really know how she felt? Was their bond then, really so strong? It always surprised her, this unnatural union between a Viera and a Hume, so often disapproved of by Jote when she still lived in the Wood and learned the Viera's life under her sisters' care. A Hume was the chief outsider, the beast who greedily spread his rough fingers all over their world, prodding into the skies, the plains, and the seas, unappeasable and foolish. Wasn't the bloodshed of Archades and Rozarria proof of this Humes' folly? And yet, she had partnered with one of these creatures and even fallen in...well. She was still unaccustomed to that word, even in the privacy of her own mind. It felt wrong, like a sinful secret. She did not know why she was so ashamed of saying the word she would have died to hear from his lips again; the first time she had heard him use it towards her person was the biggest shock she could have received, especially under the casual circumstances, entirely unromantic in every possible way. It had been a sultry summer day, and they were both working hard repairing the Strahl. She had lifted a hand to wipe the acrid sweat from her brow and sent her hair clumping in wet swirls upon her face. "Ughh…" the Hume-like groan caught Balthier's ears and he had laughed, seeing her stand there looking almost like any other female when confronted with her distorted reflection in the gleaming metal plates of the air-ship. "I declare, Fran, I do think I love you dangerously when you look like that." She had instantly stopped mid-wipe, and her reflection glared back at her, an almost-comical visage with eyes and mouth wide open. Unable to speak a word, she had unconsciously gone back to stiffly tightening the bolts while he merrily whistled off-key. Love? Love? Love me? Her weakness annoyed herself incredibly, and she surreptitiously glanced at him, making sure to cloud her crimson eyes with dignified poise before she did so—Balthier could unfortunately detect the smallest signs of confusion in her, so she had to be careful lest he discover how affected she was. He was still whistling, but the tuneless notes faded as he grinned despite himself, his eyes turning to meet hers with purposeful deliberation finally, and he stood up from his squat, stumbling for a moment. "Damn, no circulation." Fran never laughed, but there was mirth in her voice as she replied, "An out-of-shape pirate? 'Tis not good for one with so large a bounty on his head." As she spoke, he had walked forward until he was a hand's-breadth away from her. Placing his hands on his hips, he cocked his head to one side, scrutinizing her face for a moment before leaning in to plant a typically-confident Balthier kiss on her parted lips. It was over in three seconds, and he had swept the sweat from her face before chuckling and walking away, leaving her mortified, angry, and more enamoured of him than ever. She could still feel the sun of that day and see the rolling dunes of sand on that beach, the ocean's spray scenting her body like a dizzy perfume. The rest of the day was eventless, and their conversations went back to professional tones, spiced occasionally by lighthearted banter. In the night though, she had lain on her bed, richly-fringed eyes probing the shadows of the small room, searching for answers and dreams of paradise, unable to sleep. Of course, it may have been Nono's high-pitched snoring that kept her awake, but…oh well.

Balthier concentrated on maneuvering the Strahl until he was sure of its path. To preserve the image of hard work however, he continued to look intently at the blur of clouds rushing by. Fran was still calmly doing her job, but he could sense that her thoughts were running elsewhere. Her capability of successfully controlling a high-speed airship without even thinking filled him with admiration. He wondered what was going through her mind right now. From the distant look in her claret eyes, he thought that she must be thinking about the past; the question was, which one? The Viera past or her past with him? Personally, he would have liked it to be the latter, but what she chose to think about was, of course, up to Fran. He suddenly felt anger and regret—anger at the wars of unfeeling rulers and regret for the lives ruined for the gratification of a single man's whims. Wasn't their present party composed of people who were all victims, more or less by the war? Maybe he hadn't lost a brother like Vaan or a spouse like that princess Ashe, but his life had definitely been affected by this war. Look at him now, a carefree sky-pirate before and now entangled in a likely-futile effort to restore a tiny kingdom that could just as easily be crushed again. He sighed. Why was he doing this? Patriotism? Glory? Ha! He wasn't sure, but he couldn't just leave now. He looked over at Fran again. Well, as long as she was there beside him, he would continue on. Maybe that was it. To protect her, he would take on anything, twenty Vaynes if so be it.

They reached the port of Balfonheim at noon. By now, the news had probably somehow spread, and he saw that a mixed group of sky-pirates and fishermen awaited their descent, their faces showing the painful suspense of a need to find out yet not wanting to know what their hearts already whispered. Yet tell them they did; or, to be accurate, Ashe did. He merely stood behind their small group with Fran, wordlessly contemplating the solemn scene. Reddas' sacrifice was no small deal; this one man's noble courage had probably saved many another future Nabudis, and Archades was probably in chaos from the loss of their primary source of power and top engineer, his father. That was something he did not want to think about. He had sworn never to look back on that past, and he was not about to do so now. Ashe soon finished her speech, the sad crowd dispersing quietly and going off. Their own company split up as well, each heading off to different shops to buy much-needed supplies. No more small game now; there would be big battles ahead. Spying a wicked-looking katana hanging at a nearby stall, he decided to go over and look at it more closely. Suddenly, he stiffened, feeling long fingers and sharp nails slowly scraping up his thigh into the gil-bag he carried. "Your bag is light today, pirate." The sweetly accented drawl hissed seductively near his ear and he barely managed to grunt in reply. He heard Fran's tall heels click off behind him, and not until the familiar sound had died away did he remember where he was and hastily walk over to the shopkeeper, a dim-looking Seeq who was staring at him in confusion, no doubt wondering why a suave pirate like him had been struck dumb in the middle of the road. Well, this Seeq would have to learn that even a leading man will have his leading lady. Leading lady...hmm...he wondered what Fran would think of that.

Back in the Strahl, they tested out their new possessions, carefully tucking away potions and strapping on armor. Vaan's morning star was swinging dangerously close to some of the antidotes, and Penelo had to yell at him twice before he went outside to "practice." Balthier couldn't help smiling at the pair, and he lounged indolently on the couch, polishing his blade absentmindedly with a piece of cloth. Yawning, he suddenly realized how tired he was, and closed his eyes, his grip on the katana relaxing. Getting up from the couch with a groan, he walked toward his cabin, pushing the oak door open to reveal Fran, sitting on the bed and looking out the window; the fine, creamy curtains partially open to reveal a fiery sunset. He was startled, but she did not even turn around. Taking off his breastplate and shirt, he asked nonchalantly, "Enjoying the view, Fran?" She turned slowly, meeting his warm eyes with her soft gaze. "Yes. It is very beautiful...this setting."

His mouth twitched, and he strode over to her side, sitting down beside her and leaning close until the bared bronze muscles of his chest met the strands of her luxuriant hair. "Would you like to stay here tonight then, my lady?" She continued to hold the filmy curtain open with one hand, but her left hand, the one closest to his, slipped lightly over his fingers, and he involuntarily gave a quick sigh. Pulling her close with one arm, he let his chin rest on on her soft head, and she sank naturally against him, their eyes fixed together on the cherry skies outside. Balthier closed his eyes, breathing in the delicate perfume from Fran's skin. She rested quietly against him, but when the sun had almost finished its slow descent, she leaned forward, gently easing his arms down as she stood and pulled the curtains together again. He opened his eyes. "Not leaving me, are you?" She looked down , but replied, "It is necessary that I leave."

"Aw..." The disappointment he felt was great, but he saw that her face reflected real regret too. Standing up, he held her cheeks tenderly (so much easier when her heels were gone; now he could actually look down into those lovely wet eyes) and kissed her.

"Balthier..." He stopped, moving his lips ever so slightly away. His breathing came in quick spurts that warmed and cooled Fran's cheeks in rapid succession. She lifted her hand to his and gently took it away. He did not resist, and she knew that he understood. Once they reached Vayne, there may be no returning together, and in her passionate reluctance to risk losing him, it was best that she stay strong now, so if that terrible calamity should happen, she would be able to smile through her tears for him. He embraced her once more, a wistful smile of fondness dancing over his perfect features before letting her go. Her small room seemed more forlorn than ever, but the contentment of knowing that he slept close beyond the next wall eventually soothed her to sleep.

The next morning, Fran was the earliest to rise, as usual. By the time Vaan had sleepily gotten up, she was leaning composedly with one hand in the doorway, holding out a piece of fruit for him. "Oh, thanks." He smiled boyishly at her, wayward blond locks tumbling over his forehead. She bent her head in reply, and moved off toward the den where Balthier was busy charming Penelo and Ashe with stirring untruths of his heroic escapades. Basch was steadily chewing on his piece of bread, and she stood off a little distance away, preferring the solitude she had grown used to. She did not have Balthier's ease with casual conversations, but neither did she amuse herself by constantly flirting with the opposite gender either. In the midst of another ficitious anecdote, he met her raised eyebrows with an impertinently jovial look of pure enjoyment, and turned back to his fascinated audience, which now included Vaan, whose half-eaten apple lay forgotten in his unmoving hand as he stared in awe. She felt a strange inclination to laugh, but checked it, watching the others with affable mildness instead. In the warm normalcy of the quaint scene, a casual observer would not have been known that just yesterday a brave man had sacrificed his life and that a fast-approaching war was hanging in the air. And yet, in the laughter there was melancholy; in the joy there was sorrow. And in the hearts of each one, there was a different kind of aching--pain for a lost friend, husband, and life; pain for a love yet unspoken, but pulsatingly alive and lustrous in its limitless strength.


	2. Ending

He turned with a satisfied smile to face Fran, but it was struck from his countenance and he gasped silently when he saw her lying motionless among the rubble. Slowly getting to his feet, he ignored the persistent questions from his headset as the tumult and the din all around subsided into a hush. It was only him and Fran now, and he effortlessly moved her arm around his neck, bending forward to lift her beautiful body while his mind flew back to memories of the first time he had taken her into his shaking arms. As he bent down, she began to speak unsteadily and their eyes met in a breathless moment as her teasing words slipped into his heart: "I'd say you were in more of a...supporting role." She let her head fall against his shoulder, and his heartbeat returned with a surge of overwhelming adoration as he countered jauntily, "Fran, please." He straightened and started to move forward, suddenly, ridiculously content even while the Bahamut's ruins raged around him. The words of the worried group back in the Strahl gradually returned to his ears, and he called back imperturbably into the microphone: "Vaan, the Strahl's in your hands! You'd better take good care of her, you hear? If there's one scratch on here when I get back-." There was a indistinct crash and then static, and Ashe whispered fearingly, "Balthier..." But there was no reply from the discarded microphone, and seconds later, it was unceremoniously destroyed by a large block.

Meanwhile, Balthier had managed to bring Fran out of the turmoil of the Bahamut. He felt physically exhausted, but his mind still lingered on that thrilling moment when he had felt her supple back press against his arms and looked into those dazzling eyes so close to his lips. As he lowered the Viera gently onto the ground, he let himself go, leaning against a quiet tree and closing his eyelids for a moment, breathing in deeply while daydreaming of Elysium. A soft hand laid itself upon his arm, and he smiled, his eyes still closed as he savored the feel of Fran's slender fingers running down his arm. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes...are you?" The hand gently closed against his muscles, soothingly massaging his sore flesh.

"Now then, Fran, I'm the leading--" but he got no further as her other hand firmly muffled his words, pressing against his lips lightly, yet with strength in the way that only Fran could do. His eyes flashed, and his arm shot out, wrapping around her waist and locking her body against his. She was caught by surprise, and the warning in her ruby eyes enticed him more than ever.

"Pirate..." her tongue twisted around the word, painting it with her exotic accent. One of her hands was pressed against his chest, pushing away from him, the long, curved fingernails digging into his shirt.

He did not reply, his free hand removing her helmet as smoothly as he would steal a precious gem from some royal treasury. Her loosened curls veiled the edge of her delicate face, and he eased them away with his hand, tracing his finger down her jaw to her pointed chin. She did not resist, but he felt the fiery Viera strength in the tense muscles beneath the sun-kissed skin of her thighs now meeting his own. "One kiss, my lady fair," he whispered in a husky voice.

"You've had your kisses enough, pirate." Hearing that sensuous voice burned the blood within him with a rawness that throbbed through his veins, and he could scarcely keep from breaking through the fences of chivalrous propriety. Fran seemed to discern this appalling desire, and she relaxed slightly, smiling ever so archly at his weakness.

It was the last straw. Unable to resist her innocently unguarded moment, his mouth warmed hers without warning, and he kissed her with all the sweet intensity of love he could without sullying her purity or abusing his advantage. She froze stiffly at first, but his power won over her, enveloping her heart in a giddy rush of emotion, and she yielded to his kiss, returning it with shy ardor, but letting him for once be the leading man. As Balthier enclosed Fran in his arms, all thoughts flew from his mind and he felt himself to be amongst the clouds in heaven again. The stars above them shimmered in a sublime night sky, and the magic of that dulcet moment pierced the air around them in a cool breeze, dancing with the feathery leaves of the witness tree. When at last their lips unlocked, her arms moved to encircle his neck hesitatingly, and she gazed wonderingly up at him for a moment, before resting against his pulsating chest. In the idyllic hush, the world was almost perfect--except for one thing--but the old fear was gone, and she now knew with pearly clarity that it was real, meant to be. The word so tightly sealed in her soul now slipped into her mouth, finally liberated from its reluctant chains.

"I...love you," she whispered softly, closing her eyes.

She did not see the vibrant smile that flooded his face, but it flowed through his gentle voice as he whispered back in her ears, "My darling lady, I love you more."


End file.
